I arrived on the Big Island
last Saturday and spent the week acclimating. I’m pretty sure my workout
activity level this week was lower than 98% of the other competitors. But I
take the term “taper” pretty seriously. Leading up to the race it didn’t seem
as hot as I remember it being in 2010, but maybe that’s because I was more
acclimated in my preparation before leaving Michigan. This included running in long
underwear, a winter hat and a rain jacket, as well as humid and 85 degree trainer
sessions at the secret Groom
Lake training facility. It
was nice to have the whole immediate family in town and my buddy Jason even
found an excuse to bail on work and come to Hawaii.
We retreated back to the condo and had homemade pizza for
dinner. I was then surprised by an amazing Reebnut production which incorporated
videos submitted by friends and family, all wishing me good luck in various
degrees of humor and seriousness. I’m not going to lie; I felt slightly
overwhelmed inside at the support I was receiving. After that I was off to bed.
October 12th-Race Day
The family was volunteering for body marking so they were up
at 3am, which meant that I was mostly awake at this time. I officially got out
of bed around 4:15 and began my standard morning routine. My stomach was not
feeling very receptive of food, which for me is about as rare an occurrence as
a solar eclipse. I choked down a bottle of Ensure Plus and about three quarters
of one pop tart. Jason drove me into town.
Security was a little tighter in light of Boston, which was comforting as well as
annoying. I was body marked by my siblings while the parents photographed and
hugs/good lucks were distributed. For being an elite group of Ironman racers it
dumbfounds me how slow some of them walk and/or how oblivious some are to their
surroundings. I finally made it through the cattle chute and to my bike, got
set up and got out of there.
Pre-race my friend Russ Brandt had organized a group of guys
to start together that all wanted to swim around an hour. This was fantastic. I
don’t enjoy swimming anyway, which is compounded by the washing machine,
smacked and clawed in the face swim start. We all met up and chilled out for a
while, before pushing our way through the heard of slow moving people to get in
the water. After a short warm up out to the start line, we lined up to the far
left in the front row.
The crowd noise, drum beats and Mike Reilly’s demanding
voice grew in intensity. We had to tread water for 10-ish minutes. My feelings
were in stark contrast to the nervousness and tension I felt in 2010. Now my
impatience was growing by the minute as I just wanted to get this show on the road.
Finally the cannon went boom and we were on our way.
The swim was uneventful as far as Ironman swims go. I think
I swam mostly straight, got some okay drafts, didn’t go into oxygen debt nor
lose my goggles. I got knocked around more on the return leg than I was
expecting. I exited the water in 64 minutes, a bit slower than I had hoped, but
a 3 minute improvement from 2010. The T1 tent was THE place to be, that is if
you enjoy a soaking wet mess of mostly naked dudes. I calmly got my jersey and
shoes on and quickly exited the tent, while looking for some bottles of
sunscreen on a table. Alas there were none, only a lady with gloves on smearing
it on athletes. Now I’m not really a germaphobe, but I did know about 600 people
ran by before me. After all I HAD applied “water resistant” SPF 30 prior to the
swim. These factors, compounded with the hurried nature of this being a race, I
decided to skip the sunscreen station. T1 was three minutes and I was on to the
“more fun” stuff.
I was experienced enough to know not to get caught up in the
hype/adrenaline/testosterone for the early part of the bike. Going through town
is a mess as there are about 800 people all getting on their bikes within 10
minutes of each other. My goal wattage was around 215 so I tried to stay right
there as many people blasted by me in the early miles.
I knew it was a long day and just settled in, but there was
an unexpected tail wind and everyone was flying. I took on some calories and my
stomach still felt kinda crappy. But I knew I needed calories so I just had to
push through it. I came up on Russ a ways out on the Queen K and he reminded me to
save it for the return trip, which was a good ego check reminder. We ended up
riding in the same vicinity and pacing each other for the rest of the bike
ride.
There were a noticeable number of packs on the bike. It is
just the nature of having that many people on the course capable of swimming an
hour and biking around five. I would highly doubt any AGer who said they were
legal the whole time. Not that it was blatant “hey I’m cheating” drafting, but
keeping 7m spacing with that many people is practically impossible, without
wasting massive amounts of energy. This is exacerbated from trying to ride at a
steady power effort when other athletes are surging and slowing down. I did my
best to avoid the packs and targeted my pace.
I just ground it out on the climb up to Hawi, keeping a steady
215 watts. Despite my less than receptive stomach I had knocked down my first
900 calorie bottle and picked up my second bottle at the turn around. The
descent was completely tame wind wise, compared to what I remembered in 2010,
when I felt there were times I was hanging on for my dear life. I noticed
things starting to heat up on the climbs back toward Kawaihae and especially on
the gradual climb back up to the Queen K. My Joule GPS read 88 degrees, the sun
was out in full force and the head wind was starting to pick up. I didn’t need
to pee yet and figured I needed to up my water intake.
I wasn’t feeling super strong at this point and realized
Russ was a bit up the road. I made a conscience decision to push back up to him
for the mental boost. At this point it was pretty hot and pretty windy, but my
steady effort was paying off as I was passing a fair number of athletes at this
point. At mile 80ish I was doing the math, invigorated after calculating a low
4:50s bike if this pace held. Then I would look down and be going 16mph, uphill,
into the wind and wishing the bike ride was over. My stomach was still unhappy but this is what
the Iron Stomach training was for. I switched to some on course Gu and kept
pushing down the calories, which seemed to help.
I finished off the bike course strong, coming into town
feeling ready for a solid run performance. I topped off the calorie tank while
putting down a bottle of water in the final miles. I dismounted having biked a
4:54. I calmly put on my calf sleeves, socks and shoes and exited the tent
while asking and looking for sunscreen. But again none was to be found in my
hurried nature. I was destined to fry.
Exiting T2 the race clock was at 6:05. I saw my family cheering and my dad yelled I
was something in the neighborhood of 16 minutes down to 5th and 20+
some guys back. Any small chance at my goal required a sub 3 hour dream, but
considering what I pulled out at Placid I was going for it. I set off with 6:45
pace in my sights, while staying relaxed. I was diligent to take an extra few
seconds at the aid stations to keep cool. By some miracle the clouds came in
for the run, so it was hot but, “Not Africa hot, just warm.” Around mile 3 for
the first time ever I shamefully peed my pants while running. Don’t worry I
rinsed off at the next aid station.
I consistently moved up the field along Ali’i drive, keeping
close to my goal pace and staying relaxed. I was methodically steady up Palani
hill, knowing the most mentally taxing part of the run was coming up. I came up
on another guy in my age group, Scott from Canada. We paced each other and
BS’ed for a bit. The pro guys were coming back which I’m thinking (well the
word “thinking” indicates logical brain function but…), “Wow that’s X he’s like
a famous triathletes guy I’ve seen in magazines and stuff.” Those thoughts
followed by, “Wait those guys are way faster than me, and they started a half hour before me... So I have a long way to
go… (♪ And a short time to get there…♪)” But I just kept that diesel chugging
along.
Up ahead I saw an athlete struggling to get his one piece
suit off his shoulders as he ran off the road toward some large boulders. I’m
thinking, “Oh. No. NO! Yep. Oh… He’s going to poop right by the side of the
road.” He leaned back right up against a rock and that’s what happened. I made
an offhanded comment, to which he had a miserable reply. I tried to lift his
spirits and remind him, “Ya but you’re now a Queen K Legend!” Like he was the
first person to do that…
At some point there was a sign that said “No Spectators
Beyond This Point.” Not sure who decided this rule but it was a bit disheartening,
because now there were no pick me ups in the loneliest part of the course. Just
shuffling along, trying to turn all but the most necessary parts of my brain
off. My 13 mile split was 1:31 and change; close to goal pace.
“How long do I keep hurting myself? How far into that pain
cave am I willing to venture?” I’ve been in pretty deep before, but today I
wasn’t prepared to go any deeper. Rarely is there a single factor contributing
to race performance but today was a factor I hadn’t experienced before. I’ve
bonked before. I’ve been too hot, cramped up, GI issues, trashed quads/calves
and mentally checked out all before. Today the overwhelming factor was that my
feet, ankles and hips just hurt! Not like the muscles were tired hurt, but down
to the bones, tired of pounding on the pavement hurt. Today the incentive
wasn’t close enough to go any deeper and the last thing I wanted was to injure
myself.
Still running with Scott our pace slowly slipped to 7:30s.
He took a pit stop heading into the Energy Lab. An age group girl passed me on
the downhill, which stung my pride a bit, but only a little as I had already
conceded that the “racing” was over. I soldiered on and dropped to 8 (and
change) minute miles, now distracting myself by making amusing/sarcastic
comments, but also offering words of encouragement to fellow racers. I asked
the aid station workers if they had any beer or shots, but none were to be
procured. Spectators were of no help in that department but assured me there
were both at the finish line. Mark and Dave Hill was actually a relief for the
painful feet, and running down Palani meant that I was almost done.
As I turned onto Ali’i drive I was content on soaking in the
finishing chute, something that I hadn’t really taken the time to do in
previous races. Kids wanted high fives, which made me feel like a really cool
guy and I obliged. I saw my family cheering and acknowledged them as I walked
up to the finishing arch, pausing long to get a good B-Nuts promo finish
picture; official finish time 9:21:03.
Post Finish
I collected myself and hobbled over to try and put down some
food. After about 15 minutes of nibbling I had managed to eat a half slice of
pizza and 1/3 of a chocolate milk. Most atypical for Ben’s stomach except after
an Ironman. They had free (or $800 depending on your perspective) massages, so
I figured I should get my moneys worth. I showered off with a hose and went to
stand in line. As I was waiting and despite it being 85 degrees out, I started
shivering and asked a volunteer for a blanket. She brought a mylar blanket and
I was back to my Lake Placid-esque Hot Pocket. At the front of the line a
concerned volunteer asked me, “As a medical doctor would you like me to take a
look at you?” I responded, “No thanks. I just took a cold shower over there and
I have no body fat. I’ll be fine.” She then directed me to the massage table.
The next 10 minutes of lying down were the best I felt all day.
I located my family and we made a mad rush (I mean hobble)
to get out of there and back to our condo. I managed to shower, saw I had the
most amazing tan lines ever and then promptly felt like I was going to throw
up. So for the next hour or so I sat on the bed with a cooking pot, nibbled on
a plate of various breads and sipped on water. I finally managed to put down a
bacon cheeseburger before crawling into bed like a beat up old man.
We stayed in Kona for a few more days, mostly just sitting
on my butt. We flew back to Detroit on Wednesday; a typical Michigan October day, cloudy and 50. I
promptly put on my winter hat.
Reflections:
 |
| Quality Post Race Burn/Tan Lines |
I suspect there are few under 30 that feel like a truly
“seasoned” Ironman racer. Part of overcoming the adversities in racing is
having seen and experienced those many factors before and adjusting training
and racing strategies appropriately as to be able to execute them on race day.
The extra environmental factors of Kona make this even more challenging. I
applaud the athletes that excelled in those conditions and had amazing
performances. I’m sure this factor has a small play into the fact that those who win
Kona, pros or AGers, have usually been there multiple times.
Looking at myself, it is amazing the changes I’ve made since
my first Ironman race in the physical side and equally so on the mental side, even when comparing Kona of 2010 to 2013. This includes race day factors like patience and
pacing, focus and diligence on nutrition and cooling as well as simply having a
better handle on the way I train. So even though I felt I had the above factors
accounted for, there was that unexpected factor that came up out on the run. But
that’s Ironman racing for you. That experience now gets filed away to be
considered for future tweaks to training and racing. For now I’m going to spend
a month to completely recover and de-tune and decide what path to venture down
for next season. I think I need a break from the Ironman distance and time to have
a different focus.
Data: (Searchable Results)
Finish Time: 9:21:03 (148th OA, 18th
AG)
Swim-1:04:24
T1-2:56
Bike: 4:54:22 (AP-206, NP-216, IF-.72)
T2-3:21
Run-3:16:00
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